


I Will Always Come For You

by pixiedustandbluebutterflies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Excitement, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Romantic Comedy, The Princess Bride AU, just a little bit of angst (similar to the original story), swashbuckling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4195893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedustandbluebutterflies/pseuds/pixiedustandbluebutterflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to leave the land of Floren in search of rare ingredients, alchemy apprentice Hermione Granger leaves behind her one true love, Draco Malfoy, with nothing but a promise to return to him. This is their story, which proves that nothing can stop true love – only delay it for a while. Based on S. Morgenstern’s The Princess Bride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Always Come For You

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a lot of fun recasting my favorite movies/books with characters from other fandoms, and this is one that just kinda got stuck in my head. The Princess Bride is a LOVELY story and if you haven't read the book or watched the movie, I highly recommend it. 
> 
> Based on [this post](http://pixiedustandbluebutterflies.tumblr.com/post/117274657267) from my [tumblr](http://pixiedustandbluebutterflies.tumblr.com/). I've only changed the original casting I made for Rugen from Snape to Pettigrew. 
> 
> I'm not good at finishing fanfics that I start and post, but I love this story and this pairing and this general casting, so I'm determined to finish this one. 
> 
> Nothing you recognize is mine - it belongs to either JK Rowling or S. Morgenstern.

Long ago, in a time filled with magic, there was a continent known as Mythgos, which was made up of three kingdoms. The northern was called Gilda, the southern Yaine, and at its center was the kingdom of Floren. While Yaine maintained amiable relations with both of its neighbors, the same harmony didn’t flourish between Floren and Gilda. A long standing feud between the royal families left times of tense peace, which could easily topple into war.

Our story begins in the Floren countryside, at the sprawling estate of Lord and Lady Malfoy. Lucius and Narcissa had but one child, a son, named Draco, who spent his days studying with his tutors and hovering near the alchemist’s wing of the castle. Though Lord Lucius believed this was due to his son’s interest in the art of potion-making, Lady Narcissa suspected it had more to do with the alchemist’s apprentice, a young witch named Hermione Granger. Almost every day following his lessons, Narcissa would watch Draco as he slipped away toward the west wing and smile softly to herself.

Draco, on the other hand, thought he was being especially sneaky, and was quite unaware of his mother’s watchful eye as he wandered down the hallway that led to the lab where he knew he’d find Hermione working. He knocked softly on the oak door, pushing it open to find the apprentice hard at work, her hair curling wildly from the steam rising from the cauldron.

“What can I do for you today, Malfoy?” she asked without looking up from her counterclockwise stirring, amusement coloring her voice as she counted to herself.

“I wanted to perfect the numbing potion I was working on today. Though, it’d be hard for me to improve it at this point; it’s nearly perfect,” Draco replied, walking the rest of the way into the room, coming to a stop at the table directly next to Hermione’s as he pulled out the ingredient list.

Hermione flicked her eyes to the left to look at the man next to her, “There’s a pretty big difference between nearly perfect and actually perfect in potion making. An actually perfect potion will numb your limbs – a nearly perfect one could make you lose all feeling in them. You can set up there if you like, I’m almost done with this step and I’ll have to wait about an hour while it simmers. Then I can keep an eye on you while you work.”

“Well, isn’t that why you’re here? To make sure I don’t maim anyone with nearly perfect potion making?” Draco breezed, moving toward the supply closet to gather what he needed.

“Actually, I’m here to make sure _Slughorn_ doesn’t maim anyone, but I suppose that herculean task should apply to anyone working in these laboratories,” she responded, finishing the last counterclockwise turn of her wand with the necessary flick of her wrist. Hermione moved to the station next to hers, watching Draco carefully measure out and prepare his materials.

The two worked companionably, banter flying quickly between them, suggestions from Hermione interspersed throughout. When both potions were finished, the young witch bottled hers, labeling it in clear handwriting and placing it on the appropriate stocking shelf before turning back to her companion. She filled a glass vial with the pale blue concoction and brought it to her lips, humming when a numbing sensation filled her appendages.

Smiling, Hermione’s amber eyes met Draco’s silver ones, “It’s perfect, Draco,” she stated.

Draco nodded in agreement. Every day that he came here he would ask for her assistance with something simple, a potion or spell, sometimes and essay, and she would always end their meetings with an “It’s perfect, Draco.”

A few weeks later, Draco could be found in the estate’s central drawing room. On this particular day, he was struggling with an especially complex piano sonata. His angry mumbling as he readjusted his posture _yet again_ was interrupted by light footsteps on the flagstone floors. Draco turned to see who the intruder was, surprised when he spotted familiar sparkling golden eyes and unruly chestnut hair.

Hermione hesitated in the doorway, not quite in the room. “It’s perfect, Draco,” she quietly commented, before continuing on her way. It was then that Draco realized that what Hermione meant was “You’re perfect, Draco,” and that he believed she was, too.

Over the following months, their love blossomed quietly, though the estate’s staff couldn’t help but gossip about the amount of attention their young Lord paid to the alchemist’s apprentice. Soon, the news of their romance reached the ears of Lucius.

“You approved of her yourself, Lucius, when Slughorn wanted to bring her on as an apprentice. I don’t understand what your problem with her is now,” Narcissa stated simply as she lounged on the chaise in her husband’s study, her face propped on her elegant hand.

“My problem is Draco’s feelings for her. I’m not questioning her professional abilities – she’s excelled since she came here – but that doesn’t change their difference in station,” Lucius answered, moving from his place behind his desk to sit next to his wife.

Narcissa watched him approach, one elegant eyebrow arched in exasperation as she readjusted herself to make room. He settled into the lounger, resting his arm across its sloping back, “Soon we’ll be making a match for Draco, and it will be easier for everyone involved if this… this _crush_ didn’t get in the way of that,” he concluded.

With an incredulous laugh Narcissa replied, “You and I both know that as long as the Granger girl is in this castle, Draco will never consent to another pairing. He’s much too stubborn –“

“He gets that from you, by the way.”

“Shush, Lucius. As I was saying – he’s much too stubborn to let you choose a bride for him when he’s already so infatuated. Draco’s always been more inclined to follow his heart than his head.”

“A trait that will surely get him in trouble someday,” Lucius huffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Narcissa watched her husband amusedly, tugging his hand away from his face with a laugh, “Careful love, all this stress is going to turn your hair grey before its time. For what it’s worth, I like Ms. Granger. She keeps our Draco on his toes.”

“I haven’t said a single thing against her character, or her abilities as a witch. But, there’s no future for their relationship,” Lucius concluded, shaking his head.

A resigned sigh escaped Narcissa’s lips as she took Lucius’ hands in her own, “Come now, it’s late, let’s go to bed.”


End file.
